The Break - Chapter 11

Chapter 11 Ass sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for his mind to clear. He had just woken up and began his daily ritual of clearing the dreams from his mind. It was something the master had taught him. Being so small in stature, Ass had enrolled in Te Kwon Do at a very early age. In his first class, he had learned the basics. But soon he has outstripped the rest of the class, so his instructor referred him to the master. From that point on, Ass only really cared about two things. Learning from the master and playing the drums. Despite the fact that he had no interest, he did well in school. In fact, he did well in everything he tried. Mainly due to the teachings of the master, Ass understood discipline, duty, and control. Much like his drumming, he was steady and unyielding. He became aware that he was thinking conscious thoughts. That meant he was fully awake and ready to face the day. Quickly, he did his physical inventory. Today, he felt absolutely fantastic. His legs felt great, his arms felt strong, the twinge in his neck was gone. “Yeah.” He thought. “I feel great.” For the first time, he became aware that he was in a hotel room. The lump on the bed next to him was Ben. They had been on the road for quite awhile now. Every gig was bigger than the previous one. In addition to the new crowd in the new town, there seemed to be people following them from gig to gig. As Ass felt the gurgle in his stomach, he leaned to his left and peeled off a giant fart. “Ah, Jesus Christ, dude.” Ben said without moving a muscle. “Do I have to wake up to that every friggin’ morning?” “Uh…yeah.” Ass replied. “As long as we’re roomies that is.” Slowly, Ben slid the covers down and sat up. He squinted at the alarm clock as he scratched his head. “What time is it?” He asked in a groggy tone. “It’s 9:15.” Ass replied. “Just like yesterday.” “Ah, fuck me dude.” Ben lamented. “We played till two and drank till four and now you’re waking my ass up.” Ass gained his feet and began running through his stretches. “Yup, time to hit the road.” Ass stated cheerfully. “We’re doing four miles.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Ben replied as he propped himself up on his elbow. “Discipline is the art of doing things you do not want to do.” Ass paraphrased the master. “Oh great, the fucking master.” Ben derided. “Any other pearls of wisdom from ‘the master’”?’ Ass frowned a bit. He knew he went a little far with the other guys, but he really did believe in what the master said. It hurt a bit when Ben referred to him as ‘the master’ in that derisive tone. “Many, actually.” Ass replied, a little too harshly. “But you lack the wisdom to understand.” “Jeez, dude.” Ben said apologetically. “I was just pitching you a little shit.” Instantly regretting the tone of his response, Ass softened. “Yeah, I know.” Ass said. “But you know how much respect I have for the master. And I get a little touchy.” “Yeah, I do know.” Ben replied. Without thinking, he added, “That’s one of the reasons I love you.” “Dude…” Ass tapered off. Ass turned quickly and strode into the bathroom. With one hand, he pulled his underwear down. He used his other hand as a guide while he relived himself. “Sorry.” Ben lowered his head and called after his roommate. “I didn’t mean…I mean…I …well…I guess it just slipped out. “S’okay. It’s cool.” Ass replied gently as he walked back into the room. “Let’s say we go run.” “Cool.” Ben replied as he tore his body from the warm, comfortable bed. Ben stumbled to his suitcase and began to rummage through his unfolded clothes with a frustrated vigor. Although he had apologized, he was not sorry about what he had said. After several minutes, he located a semi-clean white t-shirt, a pair of running shorts and one white footie. “Do you know where my other sock is?” Ben asked in a surly tone. “Next to your foot.” Ass replied. “Jeez what’s your issue.” As he bent over to tie his shoes, Ben bit his lower lip to try to keep the frustration form boiling over. “Is this the time?” He pondered. “I waited forever.” Ben stood up, took a deep breath and blew outward. “Actually,” Ben started. “It’s not cool.” “What’s not cool?” Ass asked incorrectly assuming Ben was starting a new conversation. “Us,” Ben managed. “We’re not cool.” “What’ that supposed to mean?” Ass asked. Being a person of few words, this was perhaps the most difficult conversation Ben had ever attempted. “It means I am the only honest one here.” Ben managed. “Huh?” Ass responded stunned. “At least I say that I love you.” Ben said accusingly. “You think I don’t know how you feel about me?” “Huh?” Ass replied as the unexpected words stung his ears. “C’mon Eddie.” Ben said using his real name. “You love me, too.” “What are you talking about?” Ass said. “How many times …” Ass began to pace uncomfortable around the small room. “Yeah, yeah.” Ben interrupted his friend. “But look at us. We sleep in the same bed even though there are two beds in the room. And when was the last time you went out with a chick?” “Well…” Ben quickly stood up and got in front of his pacing friend. Gently he reached out and grasped both of his shoulders. “Exactly.” He said as he looked lovingly into the eyes of the man he loved with all of his heart. “Okay, maybe we do have a special thing.” Ass said. “But I am not gay.” “I know.” Said Ben. “But…” “What?” “What if I was a … well …” Ben tried. “What if I was a woman?” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was completely dark and totally silent or at least he thought it was. Slowly he began to hear the commotion, but he still couldn’t see anything. The strong smell of sulfur burned his nostrils. “It blew.” He thought. “Holy shit, it actually blew.” The pain told him that he was hurt, hurt badly. His senses that were working told him that things were worse than he could have imagined. Slowly, light seeped in and soon images began to take shape. He could see the pandemonium as the injured and the scared ran frantically in every direction. Panic chasing them to somewhere, anywhere but here. “How am I not dead?” He thought as his sense began working. “I was right next to it when it blew.” Suddenly aware of the constant throbbing, he anxiously rubbed his head and lowered his left hand to examine it. As he feared, the hand was covered in blood. “Could be nothing.” He told himself. “Head wounds usually bleed pretty bad.” Struggling to sit up, he began to take a mental inventory. “My name is Ron Harrison.” Big Ron said out loud. “My address is … what the hell is my address?” Before he could answer his own questions, his attention was drawn to his right hand. For the first time, he realized that he was holding a 9 mm. “What the …?” He stammered. “I don’t own a gun. What the hell is going on?” Ron tried to think, but the throbbing in his head was becoming unbearable. He laid back down on the asphalt and closed his eyes against the pain. Having his head resting on the cool pavement felt much better. “I hope someone finds me soon.” He thought. Slowly, he began to piece together what had just happened. He was trying to defuse the bomb but the guy showed up and fired a shot. “Did it hit me?” He wondered. “Kinda irrelevant at this point.” Pushing the thought out of his mind, he returned trying to remember. There had been a struggle, that he knew for sure. “Guess that is how I got this.” He thought as he looked closely at the handgun. Blinking his eyes to clear the debris, he saw that there was no blood on the gun. At least there weren’t any obvious traces of blood. “Damn, what happened?” He said out loud to express his frustration. Within a few minutes, frustration conquered pain. Ron sat up and then attempted to gain his feet. Although there was no apparent injury, he legs did not respond to the commands of his brain. Suddenly, Ron saw him standing in front of him. He looked almost as dazed as Ron felt. Automatically, Ron raised the 9 mm and pointed it at the man’s chest. “You gotta die, you rotten piece of shit.” Ron said matter-of-factly. “I know.” The man replied flatly. Within three seconds, the entire contents of the clip were lodged in the man’s chest. The last one hit him as his knees finally gave way. His body crumpled in a heap – dead. “Have fun in hell you bastard.” Ron said out loud. Within thirty seconds, four cops closed in on Ron with their guns drawn. “Put down the weapon and put your hands over your head.” The first cop shouted as she arrived next to Ron. “I mean it. DROP THE WEAPON!” “Okay, Okay.” Big Ron said as he threw the gun to the ground. “What the fuck are you doing?” The second cop asked harshly. “That’s the guy the set the bomb.” Ron explained. “I was just making sure he didn’t get away with it. Both cops stared hard at Ron through the acrid air. Their brains as hazy as the smoke filled air could not comprehend what Ron was saying. “We’ll clear this up at the station.” The second cop said when he finally found his voice. “I think I might need an ambulance.” Ron said as he held up his blood soaked arm. “And I think my leg is worse.” “Yeah, right.” The second cop said. He seemed to be the only one that could speak. The second cop reached up with his left hand and squeezed the button on his lapel microphone. “I need an ambulance over at …” He said as he tilted his head to the right so his voice would be heard clearly on the other end. “… uh … over by … where the fuck are we?” Quickly surveying the surroundings, his partner saw that they were on the north side of the building. “Some where around gate 21 or 22.” The first cop said. “or thereabouts.” The second cop repeated what the first cop said. Then he stared hard at Ron. “You better have one helluva story buddy.” He said sternly. “You killed that guy right in front of us.” “I have a story all right.” Ron said. Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.